


Penny Lane

by FantasySwap, Leviathan25



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Coming Out, F/M, Groupies, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 08:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9170257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantasySwap/pseuds/FantasySwap, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leviathan25/pseuds/Leviathan25
Summary: To Gerard, Frank Iero is just another notch on his belt, just another sleepless night to add to the growing list of musicians he had slept with.To Frank, though, Gerard is so much more.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Leviathan25 and I are back with another story; this one is only two chapters long but trust us when we say they are loooong chapters! Enjoy part one! :D

Gerard never imagined himself having to run away like this before. He had had his fair share of stalkers in the past, yes. He had also had a background of girlfriends and boyfriends who wanted him dead, so he always took precautions: nobody knew his real name, nobody knew where he lived and what he did. He loved his lifestyle and he didn't regret any of the decisions he ever made… well, until now. Exactly two days ago everything went to hell, and Gerard was left sitting on his bed in his college dorm with a plastic bag on his head, waiting for the dye to turn his hair black again.

***

_Gerard_ :

It wasn't the best orgasm of my life; that title belonged to the two meter tall rugby player that fucked me at a college party. That man was a complete beast: a complete Neanderthal, the kind of guy you could imagine would feed himself raw meat. Creepy, and a little dense, but damn did he know how to put me on my knees.

Instead, the guy I was with was the complete opposite. He was short, shorter than me, and a little chubby— which wasn't necessarily a bad thing when, added to the general look of confusion on his face, it just served to make him look cuter. His fingertips were rough from of years of playing guitar and he was covered in tattoos. In other words, he was exactly my type. After years of frequenting the crummiest clubs and bars in New Jersey searching for people to spend the night with, a guy like this is a rare treat. Just because people are in semi-famous bands doesn't mean, as I found out a long time ago, that they have desirable characteristics or attributes.

But this man - Finn? Frank? Francis? _Whatever_. - was a welcome change. He was so fucking _nervous_ for a start. I was not, as a rule, a big fan of rough-housing, but it was somewhat more enjoyable than being asked if I'm okay or if he's hurting me every two minutes. It was better than going home with an asshole who didn't care about my wellbeing at all, but someone _really_ needed to tell the guy to let loose every once in a while.

Even so, it was nice to be valued— at least, that's what it felt like. I liked dirty talking as much as the next guy, it was always a turn on, but this guy was acting as if sex was the last thing on his mind. The way he held me, stroked my hair and whispered sweet words into my ear and placed soft kisses on the back of my neck… it was almost enough attention for me to pretend that I was valued by someone.

And then he came with a choked off cry and it was over and that was it. So no, it wasn't the best fuck for me in terms of pleasure and this guy was obviously out of practise but, for the short time it took, it was the best night of my life.

***

_One Week Earlier:_

_Frank:_

James and I were backstage, drinking cheap beer and talking about the Death Spells concert we had just watched, when I saw him for the first time. I could tell he was different straight away— not because of how attractive he was, but because I did, in fact, find him attractive. It wasn't the kind of attractive that I could just accept or perhaps be jealous of - it wasn't just one guy a knowledging that another guy was incredibly hot - it was that I found him attractive, and it scared me.

His hair was unnaturally red, the kind of red that just demands attention, and his eyes were heavily lined with black eyeliner. If I had the guts to go up and speak to him, I would have been able to tell if he was wearing mascara or not. As if that wasn't enough, he was wearing the tightest jeans I had ever seen on a man— sure, I had seen girls wearing trousers so tight I wasn't surprised they could breathe, but I'd never met a guy who could pull it off better than them. He didn't walk so much as strutted, and I found my gaze becoming transfixed on the way his hips swing from side to side.

When I managed to tear my eyes away from his hips, I was embarrassed to see I'd been caught staring at him. My face flushed and I looked away quickly, not wanting to be called out. I snuck a look back at his face and saw he was still, unashamedly, staring at me, and I found myself unable to look away. A smirk spread across his face as his eyes met mine and he winked, placing a hand on his chest and dragging it down his torso until it came to rest on his hip in a carefully practised, over-sexualised movement.

Then, before I could do anything other than swallow - my throat now dry - he turned and walked away, coming to a stop at an unused amplifier and perching on the edge of it. As I watched, he lifted his beer bottle up to his lips and took a long drink. Some of the liquid spilled out of his mouth and ran down his face, dripping off his chin; I tried not to stare.

“Who's he?” I asked, jerking my head in the kid's direction. James turned in his chair to look at who I was talking about and a couple of the sound technicians hanging around nearby snickered amongst themselves.

“That’s Gee." One of the guys - one with a bald head and a pointy nose - said. “He, uh… _hangs_ _out_ here a lot."

"Oh," I frowned, trying to recall ever seeing someone so memorable around here before. "Is he friends manager or something?"

The techs exchanged amused looks and one cocked on eyebrow at me. I didn't like the way he was smiling; like he knew something I didn't.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. Gee's friends with _everyone_ , if you, er… know what I mean."

At first I had no idea what they were talking about, and they must have noticed the confused look on my face because they sighed and shook their heads. Tech Number One rolled his eyes at me and leaned in to stage-whisper, "He's a fucking slut!" into my ear.

I recoiled, not used to such "vulgar terms", as my über religious mother would say. It's funny really; she would be the first to claim 'sluts' were going to hell for their sins, and yet she condemned anyone else who would say it. It was like she was the only one allowed to make judgements. Frank reserved his judgements for people he knew well.

"He's not kidding!" Tech Number Two carried on from his friend. "If you're a musician, he opens his legs no problem. He's fucked practically everyone here. He's like a… a… what do you call them? What are they called, Joe?"

"Fuckin' _groupie_ , man." Joe replied, leaning over me and taking a swig of my beer, without asking my permission first. "Better watch out; he's got his eye on _you_ , man."

Joe clapped me on the shoulder hard enough to send me lurching forward, the table jolting and beer spilling over the rim of the glasses.

"I've never fucked him." a passing security guard joined in the conversation, sounding almost proud of the fact. "I don’t want to catch fuckin' HIV or some shit, but damn. The kid sure knows how to give an amazing blowjob."

Everybody laughed except for James and I. When I spun around to check I saw that, sure enough, Gee was watching me. I looked away quickly, trying to focus on the conversation again. However, when I did I found that I didn't much care for being a part of it. I'd never bee not fond of badmouthing anything - deserving of it or not - but from the way these people were talking about the kid, he may as well have been an inanimate object: something without feelings or rights.

I muttered a quick goodbye to James before pushing my chair out and leaving, heading towards the lonely car park. I lit up a cigarette once I was out there, huddling further into my coat to protect me from the cold.

I couldn't have been out there for more than two minutes before I heard footfalls behind me and a sultry voice saying, "Why so lonely Sugar?”

The kid, because I could already tell that he wasn’t older than twenty, was holding two Coronas in his hands and was holding one out to me, offering it. When I didn't reply, and didn't take the beer, he giggled softly and said, "You don’t have to be afraid of me Sweetie, I just came out here to talk. If you want to, that is."

I was visibly nervous as I stuttered out a reply. "I— I mean, yeah… yeah I know. I mean, I'm not scared. Just— just… I never do anything like this, y'know. I mean, not that—"

“Like what?" he interrupted, an innocent look on his face. "You never talk to your fans? That's mean, you know."

I could feel my face flushing, probably a mottled red colour as I offered an embarrassed apology. "Yes, of course. I'm so sorry, I… yeah, no, I just thought… never mind, it's not—"

Gee was looking at him with a serious expression that lasted a couple of seconds before he started to laugh. I huffed out a breath in either confusion or frustration, I wasn't sure.

"Oh Sugar, I'm just teasing you." Gee winked, grinning lopsidedly. "I can tell you've never being with a slutty boy like me, huh?" Gerard was moving towards him, sidling closer carefully as though he didn't want to move too quickly and startle me into running away. I was struggling to breathe evenly; I was so close to just running away.

"But I really do want to talk about music. Your music, to be precise. Tonight was the first time I saw you on stage and honey, it was amazing! Your lyrics are so deep, you know? Well… at least what I could understand. You screamed so much." Gerard giggled, a high pitched, tinkling noise that left me breathless and dizzy. What was _happening_?!

Gee leant against the nearest car and sighed, taking a slug of his beer. His head tipped back and his throats was exposed. I tried my best not to look. He started talking: about music, about my band, about my lyrics, and for some reason I found it shockingly easy to talk to him.

To my surprise, Gee really knew what he was talking about. In the past, I had gotten used to having people giving me lots of compliments out of nowhere that left me wondering if they were genuine or not, but it was refreshingly nice to have this kid talking to me, giving me constructive criticism and telling me what he thought of my songs. Somehow… somehow I knew he was being honest when he complimented me; and for some reason I felt it at my core.

Minutes became hours and after a while I stopped noticing the biting cold or the sky slowly getting darker and darker and then lighter and lighter. I was more than pleased to be talking to him - it was easy, relaxing, talking to him - and it was a huge change from what I was used to or comfortable with. I had never actually met a gay person before. I was raised in a very religious family who always made out that homosexuality was a sin. I never understood the big deal about a person's sexuality - love is love, right? - but due to their constant reminds and endless preaching, it was rare for me to be so relaxed with someone who openly "loved dick" (as Gee so eloquently put it.)

He was lighting a cigarette when I first started to notice the little things about him. I probably stared at him for far longer than necessary but I couldn't bring myself to care. He smoked differently to me, differently to anyone else I'd seen smoking before, and it looked nice. He didn't look like he was smoking because he was addicted to the nicotine— he held it between his lips and blew out the smoke from one side of his mouth only. It looked like a fashion statement.

I never thought I would be saying this - ever - but he looked sexy. When he took the cigarette out of his mouth, I couldn't help but be a little bit disappointed.

I didn't know how much time I had spent staring at him, but the next thing I knew, his cigarrette was on the ground and he was standing dangerously close to me. Gee was taller than me, almost by a whole head, and I had to crane my neck to look up at him. My heart was pounding in my chest and I vaguely had a sense of panic as he gently placed a hand on the side of my face and leaned in close.

"Do you like what you see, Sugar?" And before I could reply he was ending his neck, pulling my face closer and kissing me.

White noise. That was what I was feeling as I felt Gee's lips move against mine. I closed my eyes and my arms were immediately drawn to his waist— whenever I kissed a girl, that's always where I put my hands. I liked to pull my girlfriend closer to me whenever we made out, to make her feel protected and safe. This guy wasn't my girlfriend, I didn't even know his real name, and he was a guy. I was making out with a guy! But his lips were soft against my own and his haand was carding through my hair gently, pulling me closer to him if that was even possible.

He bit my bottom lip and I gasped, momentarily stunned. He took the opportunity to slide his tongue into my mouth no wrap it around my own. It was different, completely different, from what I was used to. Whenever I kissed Jamia, I was always the one in control. I was always the one doing thenhplding and never the one being held… but Gee made me feel so safe when he kissed me and held me. I felt so secure.

I had been dating my girlfriend for five years. Jamia and I had been together since high school and it was only a matter of time until I inevitably propose to her and marry her. That was what everyone - my family and friends and her family and friends - expected, and yet here I am. Right now I'm in a parking lot with a hot gay guy, making out, and it felt good. It felt right. It felt like hours past, even though it could only have been a few minutes, and I swear I forgot all my problems. Gee was slowly sucking all the bad negative thoughts from my brain with every jab of I said tongue into my mouth. I was enjoying this way more than I should.

It was when I heard him moaning into the kiss that I finally snapped out of whatever trance he had put me in. I had to admit it was the sexiest sound I had ever heard, but it was woke me up. I pulled away from him, panting heavily, and he looked at me with a concerned expression.

I left without a single word. I couldn't think of anything to say that would help me explain myself to him, so I figured why bother? All I could think was, "this can't be happening to me." I had the ring for Jamia in my car! I couldn't do this to her, I couldn't betray her like that, especially not with a guy. So I left hoping never to see him again.

It was difficult. For following week, the only thing I had on my mind was that kiss. I had never felt anything like it before, it was perfect in every way, and the guilt was eating me up from the inside out. I could barely look Jamia in the eye any more, but at the same time I couldn't stop thinking no about it. I would recreate the scene in my mind whenever I was alone: his hands in my hair, his soft lips against mine, the lemon flavoured chapstick he obviously had on, his smell that was a mixture of coffee and cigarettes and cheap beer and the moan. I felt that little sound he made when he was kissing me every time I thought about it. I could still feel it, it was so real. I could only imagine what other sounds he would he make if…

I shook the thought violently from my head. All I had to do, I told myself, was avoid him until he left my head for good. It couldn't be that hard, right?

***

My attempts to avoid him only lasted a couple of days, because he was there at my next gig. I saw him when I was on stage and when I locked eyes with him I stopped singing, my voice catching in my throats for a few seconds before I began again. He smiled at me warmly as though we were nothing more than friends, as though I hadn't spent the whole of last week trying to pretend he didn't exist.

As soon a second the set was over I jumped off the stage, neglecting to help my bandmates pack away the equipment. Gee waved at me but I pretended not to see him and just kept walking. I just needed to get to my car and then I'd be safe. Minutes later, I felt my arm being grabbed and I froze, turning around slowly.

Of course it was Gee, and of course he was looking at me with a serious expression that made me want to kiss the shit out of him.

"Where are your manners, Sugar?" He said easily, but I could tell underneath the joking attitude he was hurt. "You left me alone in the middle of night in some random parking lot, and now you can't even say hi to me? I could have been kidnapped, Frankie!"

I couldn't speak, could barely even suck in a breath with him so close to me. One reason was because I was completely embarrassed. He was right, I shouldn't have left him alone in the first place and I definitely shouldnt have ignored him afterwards, but what really turned me into such a mess were the clothes he was wearing. He had on a black V neck t-shirt with my band name on it and a red skirt; a fucking _red_ _skirt_!

It was made of leather and only just covered his ass, showing off the curves of his hips and leaving the smooth, pale skin of his thighs on full mouth fucking watered at the sight and I wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch. I just wanted to run my hands along his thighs, dig my fingernails in and leave bruises in the shape of my fingerprints. I wanted to reach under his skirt and touch his ass, feel it against my skin, make him moan like he had moaned into the kiss.

But I couldn't do any of those things, because Gerard wasn't mine. _Jamia_ was mine, and _I_ _wasn't_ _gay_.

"You're staring, Frankie." Gee murmered, hardly sounding surprised. I bet he'd gotten a lot of stares in that outfit; both lustful and judgemental. I had been brought up to feel the latter, but at the moment I was feeling anything but judgemental. Gee looked hot - maybe I couldn't accept those feelings and what it meant regarding my sexuality just yet but I could at least accept that the man - the _man_ \- was _hot_.

"I'm sorry." Was my immidiate response as I felt my face flush. I'd been caught out in doing something embarrassing and, as usual, my first instinct was the apologise and run away. Gee stepped closer though, placing a gentle hand on my upper arm. At first, I almost jumped into the road trying to escape him but after a moment I relaxed into the touch and even leaned closer to him.

"Don't be sorry," Gee's voice was low, and it was giving me goosebumps. We were so close now, so close that I could feel his breath on the side of my face, could feel his body heat on mine. "You don't have to be sorry."

I held my breath when Gee reached out, taking my hand and pulling it towards him and then down, down until he placed my hand on his leg. With his hand still over mine, he guided my hand upwards, over his thigh and under his skirt. His legs felt exactly like how they looked: smooth and soft. Taking the initiative now, I moved my hand without Gee guiding me, sliding it to the back of his thigh and digging my fingers in just slightly; squeezing, but not hard enough to hurt. When I managed to pull my gaze away from the sight of my hand up his skirt, I was able to look at Gee's face.

His eyes were closed and his mouth was open a little, his lips wet and a strand of hair sticking to them. His cheeks were flushed and he looked _so_ , _so_ beautiful.

When my fingertips brushed past the bend in between his thigh and groin, I sucked in a panicked breath and tried to tug my hand away but Gee caught my hand and kept it there. I splayed my fingers out - I wanted to feel as much of him as possible - and breathed in deeply through my nose.

"It's okay, Frankie." Gee told me soothingly and I found myself calming as I narrowed my focus to his skin beneath my fingers and his gentle voice in my ear. "Just relax; just breathe. It's okay, I promise."

I looked up at his face again from under my eyelashes and didn't even blush when I saw he was staring right back at me. He was watching me with purpose, and I knew what his next words would be before they left his mouth.

"Do you want to come back to my place?" He asked softly, as though he didn't want to scare me away. I didn't blame him— he'd done it before. "For coffee, of course."

I bit my lip. Did I _want_ to? Yes. Did I want to sleep with him?— because that was undoubtedly what he was offering. _Yes_. Did I want to know what his skin would feel like under my hands, in the privacy of his "place" where we could do anything we wanted and no one would know? _Fuck yes._

But _should_ I? I had a _girlfriend_ \- we were one step away from being _engaged_ , for Christ's sake - and I couldn't cheat on her. We'd been together for too long, and I couldn't do that to her. 

Before I could apologise and extricate myself from the situation, there was the hum of a car engine from behind me and I leapt away from Gerard, wide eyed and probably looking guilty as hell. It was a good thing too, because a few moments later the car parked and Jamia climbed out.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gee smoothing down his skirt and flipping his hair away from his face. His checks were still red and his lips were still wet, but unless you knew Gee and knew what he got up to in his spare time - like everyone in the club seemed to - then you wouldn't be able to tell what we had been doing just moments ago.

"Babe," Jamia cried, grinning widely. She was wearing a black leather skirt, and I hated myself for noticing that she couldn't pull it off as well as Gee could. She was beautiful - Frank could see that, even though his new found lust for Gee was clouding his judgement - and she was walking _right_ _towards_ both of them.

"Hey, Frankie!" She threw her arms around my neck when she was close enough and planted a sloppy kiss on my face, causing me to jerk away. She didn't look phased that I tried to escape the constricting embrace and instead turned her attention on Gee who was beginning to look vaguely uncomfortable. He was casting glances over his shoulder and tugging on the hem of his skirt self consciously.

"J-Jamia," I stammered out. "This is… a friend, from the club. Gee. Gee, this is my girlfriend Jamia."

Gee raised his eyebrows but still managed an easy, friendly smile as he held his hand out for her to shake. Jamia, to my embarrassment, raised her eyebrows back at him in what looked like contempt.

"Not like your other friends, is he." She commented, pointedly ignoring his hand until he got the message and dropped it to his side. I stared, open mouthed, at Jamia and how rude she was being. I'd never seen this side in her before, but then I suppose I'd never met anyone like Gee before.

She huffed when I struggled to respond immediately, and side-stepped both Gee and I and brushed off the front of her t-shirt as though she thought she had accumulated germs on it just from being in a close vicinity to him. 

"I called you but you didn't answer. You probably couldn't hear me over all that… _noise_ you make in the club; at least, that's what I _figured_. I mean, you told me you'd be late home tonight but I thought I'd surprise you, but I then I thought that I should call you because that club is _scary_ , Frankie! But I was already here, basically, when you didn't pick up so…" she trailed off, looking between Gee and I expectantly.

Neither of us had moved from our places; I probably looked like a startled rabbit, whereas Gee looked perfectly calm and collected, as though he hadn't just been tongue deep in my mouth with my hand up his skirt.

Jamia waited a couple of seconds in silence, looking from Gee to me. Finally, when it became obvious I didn't have anything to say to that, she rolled her eyes and took both of my hands in hers. Her fingernails dug into my skin but I was too self conscious to pull away from her. 

"You can go now." She addressed Gee, not even pretending to be polite anymore. My eyes widened at her blunt rudeness.

Gee opened his mouth to answer, but then closed it again almost immediately. He clearly didn't know what to reply with that would be an equal put-down, so in the end he just shook his head with a disapproving expression.

"It was nice to meet you Jamia," he said sarcastically. "Goodnight Frankie." With that he left, and I watched in shock as he sashayed over to a blue car and climbed inside, driving away.

I stood there with my mouth open in disbelief. "Did you _actually_ just say that!?" I cried.

She looked at me with big, innocent eyes, and I was struck with how the mean, bitchy girl from minutes ago disappeared, and was replaced with my sweet looking girlfriend of five years. I wondered if she hadn't always been able to hide the nasty side of her, or if I had just been overlooking it until now.

"What? What did I do?" She asked confusedly.

"You can't _treat_  people like that! You don't know him! You treated him like _shit_ , Jamia!" I was still trying to convince myself that all of this was a misunderstanding, that maybe Jamia wasn't feeling well or something, because how could I live and life with someone who showed no respect to other human beings? As if she had read my mind, she replied.

"With clothes like that what kind of respect does he _deserve_? Frankie, how is it possible that you're even _considering_ him your friend? What would your mother think; he was wearing _women's clothes._ That's— that's immoral and disgusting."

I couldn't stand it anymore - I needed to clear my head and get my thoughts in order - so I walked to my car without a word to my girlfriend. I needed nicotine right now.

Jamia was hurrying alongside behind me, as fast as her high heels would let her run, trying to stop me and get me to turn around.

"Just stop, Jamia, okay?" I called over my shoulder to get her to leave me alone for a while. "I just— stop."

I got into my car and started driving. I didn't know where I was going or why I couldn't seem to get Gee's hurt expression when Jamia so clearly insulted him out of my head. This was something I needed to think about rationally, in a calm way, and to do that I needed cigarettes and coffee. It was almost two in the morning and I knew the only place that would be open this late - or early - was the gas station off the main road a few minutes drive away.

When I got there - after looking around furtively to make sure Jamia hadn't followed me - and got out of the car and leant against it, sighing deeply. This had been a crazy night, and what with the volume of the music I'd played and the added stress of the Gee/Jamia situation, my head was aching. I _needed_ cigarettes.

"Look," I heard a voice say as soon as I walked in the door. "I've already told you three times: if you don't have the money, you can't have the sandwich! Now go _away!"_ The voice, who I figured was the cashier, was rising in volume and I felt sorry for whichever poor customer couldn't afford their sandwich.

"For fuck's sake, I just want a _fucking_ sandwich!" Another voice yelled, and I recognised that voice. 

Rushing round the the aisle I wasn't in, I turned the corner so I could see the till and sure enough, there was Gee holding a five dollar bill and looking frustrated whilst the cashier was holding a sandwich in one hand and a juice box in another. He looked ready to kill the next person that tried to argue with him.

"Gee!" I shouted before I could think better of it. I was just so excited to see him— it was far more than coincidence, I could tell. I mean, what were the chances that he would leave the club and go to the exact same gas station that I chose to go to at the same time? Okay, so it may have been the only gas station around for about ten miles, but still, I knew it was more than a coincidence.

It was fate.

He turned around and saw me, his eyes clouding with confusion for barely a second before he recognised me and smiled. He cast a glance down at the juice box in the cashier's hand, the five dollar bill onnthe counter and finally at my pocket where my wallet was just showing. I figured out immediately what he was silently asking of me, so I took my wallet and stepped past him at the counter.

"Frankie, you don't have to." He offered unenthusiastically. "These things are so expensive— three fuckin' dollars for a juice box! You _really_ don't have to." He placed his hand on my upper arm tlightly, as though he were trying to stop me -not very hard - but at that moment his stomach made a loud rumbling sound and he crossed his arms over his stomach, completely embarrassed. "Okay," he conceded, looking the other way. "Maybe this one time."

I handed the money to the cashier, chuckling under my breath. The guy scowled at Gee and turned to me with an annoyed expression; he gave me Gee's food along with a packet cigarettes and a bag of coffee beans (the vending machine was out of order, so I grabbed the next best thing.) We wandered outside and before we reached the old, wooden bench to sit down, Gee hugged me. I wasn't expecting it so I inhaled sharply, breathing in Gee's intoxicating scent in doing so.

"Thank you." He whispered, his hands clasped together behind my back. Pulling back a little, he sniffed quietly and planted some small, feather-light kisses on my neck. I hugged him back after the few seconds I spent getting my body to cooperate. I wanted to feel as much of him as I could but, unfortunately, his stomach interrupted us again and he broke the hug to sit down.

We spent about ten minutes in a comfortable silence, with him munching happily on his sandwich and with me taking turns to drink my coffee and smoke my cigarettes. When he finished eating, he leaned to the side and laid his head on my shoulder. My breath caught in my throat— I wondered why it was so hard to breathe whenever I wasn't around Gee.

"Thank you Frankie." He said again, sounding far too sincere for someone who had only been bought a late night snack.

"Don't worry about it," I replied nervously. "It was just a juice box. Besides, I should be apologising to you. Thre way Jamia treated you… I just don't know what happened. She's _never_ been like that before." I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought about how she did looked Gee up and down like he was trash.

Gee took my face in his hands and grinned. 

"You don't have to apologise Sugar, it wasn't your fault. I guess I just bring out the homophobic asshole in people, right?" he leaned closer and, for that short time, I wasn't even thinking about how he had just dissed my girlfriend of five years. I was simply thinking of his lips, and how close they were, and how they would feel against my own. I wanted to see how they would feel against my own.

I closed the short distance between us, letting him take control almost straight away. He brought a hand up to cup my face whilst he kissed me. It can only have been a couple of seconds but time melted away as our lips moved together. His tongue swiped along my bottom lip and I opened my mouth needily, my hands grabbing onto his sleeve because I thought was the only place our awkward position would allow me to touch him. I felt his tongue wrap around my own and it was exactly like it was the last time we kissed: amazing. After a while, I felt a warmth in the pit of my stomach and the front of my jeans began to grow a little tighter. I moaned and broke away from the kiss, my face flushing in humiliation. I'd just gotten _hard_ , over a _guy_.

"You're not going home with her tonight, alright?" He told me. I nodded, too breathless to reply verbally. He stood momentarily, just to reposition himself, and then sat back down again so he was straddling my lap; I sucked in a breath and opened my eyes in surprise. He did a little bounce, making me squeak unsuspectingly.

"Good," he continued. "Because I think I need to thank you for such an expensive dinner."

Humming softly, he returned his hand to my neck and starting licking at my mouth until I opened it for him. I replied to the kiss eagerly, wrapping my hand around his waist, which was now thankfully much more accessible  than before. I didn't know how badly I needed this until now; until I was sitting on a bench at a gas station in the early hours of the morning with a man dressed in drag bouncing up and down in my lap with his tongue down my throat. My hips had started to twitch upwards without me noticing, craving the pressure and friction of Gee's ass against my crotch.

I wanted to hold him this way forever. Not even in my wildest dreams would I ever think that I'd be in this situation. After a while, without breaking the kiss, he took one of my hands and put it on his leg, I didn't need more than that to started touching him under his skirt, I wanted to do this, I wanted to touch him and never let go.

"Let's go to my place," Gee whispered, his tongue darting out to my earlobe and his teeth quickly joining in to nibble on it. Shivers racked my entire body as I nodded eagerly. He slid off my lap eventually and I followed on shaky legs, leading him to my car. When I asked about his, he shrugged and took my hand, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles again and again until I lost the ability to care; after opening the passenger door for him, I climbed in and we drove away.

***

Gee's apartment was surprisingly normal for such an eccentric character. I had no idea what I was expecting really; some place with neon coloured walls and lacy women's lingerie lying around on the floor. However, what I saw was about as far from what I had imagined as possible.

The walls were white and bare, the floors were stone with a soft, blue carpet covering it and there were two armchairs in the living room with a television directly opposite them.

A stray empty glass was perched dangerously on the edge of the coffee table and a stack of music magazines were piled next to it, but other than that the living room was void of any personal touches. Before I had an opportunity to wonder about it or to ask Gee why his home was so… _boring_ , the man had latched himself to me. His chest was plastered to my back and his chin was resting on my shoulder; I could feel his breath, hot and heavy against my neck. I shudder involuntarily.

"Do you want a drink?" Gee asked, his voice low. "Water, coffee, beer… you choose."

I went to reply but as soon as I turned all the way around to face him, I realised just how close we were. I couldn't help it when my eyes darted down to his lips, looking so soft and kissable, and my tongue snuck out to wet my lips. Gee caught on to this gesture though, of course he did, and he smirked.

"I'll take that as a no." He decided, nodding as if he was answering his own question. "Do you want to see my bedroom?"

The words took me off guard, but again I had no idea why. I suppose I was expecting someone like Gee - a slut, as those ignorant bartenders so kindly put it - to ask me directly if I wanted to fuck. Asking if I wanted to see his _room_ — well, that took me back to my teenage days when I had only just met Jamia, and she asked me up to her room for the first time…

I winced as my thoughts trailed back to Jamia. I didn't want to think about her right now; not while I was at the apartment of some guy I was about to cheat on her with. To shut her out of my mind, hopefully for the rest of the night, I nodded emphatically and breathed a short but certain, "yes."

Gee took my hand again, smiling as he led me through the living room and down the hall until we reached a closed door on the left. I braced myself for all kinds of whacky designs and possessions as the door opened, but once again I was left surprised.

His bedroom was much like his living room: bare, with only the essentials flung around the room in various states of disarray. There was a double bed in the centre of the room, but the covers and pillows were messy and it was clear that nobody made the bed after Gee woke up this morning. There was a desk in the corner completely covered with drawings. Some special pieces of paper were tacked up on the wall above the bed or the desk, but most of them were in unorganised, chaotic piles. There was a wardrobe next to the door, but as I walked around the open door to investigate, I saw that almost all of Gee's clothes have been discarded on the floor of the closet instead of being hung up on the rack. It was like he unpacked with no intention of staying for very long.

"I have a really comfortable bed," Gerard told me and I inhaled shakily as I think about his bed, with both me and him on it. Together. "You want to find out?"

I nodded again because I knew that my voice would betray me if I tried to speak.

Without saying a word, he left me in the middle of his room and walked towards his bed. The look he gave me when he halted, positioned on all fours as he made to crawl across the bed, made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and any hesitations I might have had about being here dissipated immediately. With one look, one quick glance over his shoulder, he had the power to make my knees weak and my tummy turn somersaults.

"You coming, or are you just gonna stand there and stare all night?" He giggled so effeminately that if I were to close my eyes, I would probably be able to pretend that I was here with a girl; that it was a female I was about to sleep with.

But I didn't do that. I didn't want to pretend. I wanted to be right here with Gee, and not even think about my girlfriend or my religious, homophobic mother or the Catholic Church. I didn't want to think about anyone's else— not only would that be utterly disrespectful to my companion, it would also fuel the newfound self hatred of mind that appeared the first time I made out with Gee.

With a jolt, I lurched forward to join Gee on the bed. He smiled lopsidedly, just a smug little grin that let me know he was sure I would make this choice. He reached out to touch my face, his fingertips skimming lightly across my cheek and then down to my chin; he held it more firmly then, between his index finger and thumb before leading my face closer to his own. Then, torturously slowly, he closed the gap between our lips himself.

I got that feeling again, the same euphoric, electrifying sensation as before and it was all I could do to moan softly into his mouth as I tried to keep up with him. His lips were moving against mine so brutally hard that I _knew_  they were going to leave bruises— the thought just made me lean closer and grasp at his own face. I _wanted_ him to leave marks.

"Fuck, Frankie…" Gerard groaned, his hands leaving my face to settle on my chest. He started unbuttoning my shirt, his motions quick and well practised. I let him get as far the fourth button down before I pulled away, panting heavily with pink, wet lips.

"What're you doing?" I asked him, my brow furrowing as I waited for his answer. He didn't reply straight away though; placing a hand on my chest, Gee leaned forwards on his knees and pushed me so I was lying flat on my back on his bed. He crawled on top of me so that his hips were pressed firmly against mine, his knees on either side of my torso and his hands keeping his balance by resting on my chest.

"I am undressing you," he said slowly, innocently, as he began to undo the buttons on my shirt again. "So that you will be able to fuck me into this mattress." When he finally managed to undo all of them, he pushed the fabric aside and ran his hands up and down my bare chest, making goosebumps break out on my skin. Leaning down so that his hair tickled my face and his lips were touching my ear, he whispers, "All night long."

Then he was kissing me again, his lips and tongue working together on the base of my throat and quickly moving down my chest. He stopped to run his tongue over my nipple once, twice, three times before I allowed myself to moan into the otherwise silent room. My hips bucked up against his own and it seemed that I took him by surprise by doing that; he cried out breathily and almost lost balance, but caught himself just in time— he bit my nipple gently after that, and worked his way further down until his fingers were brushing the skin just above the waistband of my jeans.

He licked around the swallow tattoos on my stomach before popping the button of my trousers and pulling the zip down; I shuddered from anticipation as I realised this was  _really_ about to happen, I was  _really_ about to sleep with Gee, but that was the only thought I could properly process before his mouth was around me and all rational thought was out of my mind. The only thing I could think was _ohshitohshitohshit,_ because Gee was a fucking _expert_ at this.

" _Fuck_ ," I gasped, my hips snapping upwards involuntarily as I tried to press myself further into the warmth. When I looked down I could see his lips wrapped tightly around my cock, stretching further every time he would go down and take more of me in. He used his hand to pump gently at the bits he couldn't fit in his mouth; every time he came up for breath, he would flick his tongue over the head and then dig his thumb into the slit until I cried out or rolled my hips.

"Gee, _fuck_ , that's amazing." I gasped, unable to say much else what with his lips and tongue taking up most of my concentration. He pulled off, stroking my dick with one hand whilst wiping the corners of his mouth with the other; he bent over my crotch, huffing hot breaths of air over my erection in a way that was too maddeningly arousing to be unintentional.

I hadn't realised - like I could notice anything going on around me with Gee licking his way determinedly up and down my dick - that whilst he had been sucking me off, he had also been prepping himself, so it came as a surprise to me when he stood up awkwardly and hurried to his drawer without a word. I looked up, my eyes bleary and confused, as I squeaked out a quiet, "What?" 

After rifling around in the top drawer for a few seconds, he turned to me with a triumphant smile on his face and a small, square packet in his hand. 

"Ready?" He questioned excitedly, jumping back on the bed and swinging a leg over my body as he hovered over me. He didn't really give me a chance to object - not that I would have ever _dreamed_ of stopping him right then; being my own cock-block when I was so turned on did _not_ sound like a good idea - before he was gripping the base of my cock in one hand, holding it upright whilst he rolled the latex over it completely. He didn't waste any time after that, putting both his hands on my chest as he positioned my tip at his entrance and slowly sunk down.

At first, I couldn't do anything but open and close my mouth, gasping for breath. Gee was so hot and so _tight_ around me, so different than Jamia or any other girl I'd ever been with; it was so much fucking better that I could barely _breathe_ , let alone _speak_.

After fisting my hands in the sheets by my head, sucking in enough air so that I wouldn't die right then and there, I focused on Gee's face. It was a little difficult at first, because I was finding it hard keeping my eyes open. All I wanted to do was let them slip closed and buck my hips uncontrollably into Gee's tight body, but for his sake I didn't. I didn't want to hurt him.

Gee looked gorgeous— his shirt had been discarded on the floor somewhere when I wasn't paying attention, but he was still wearing that leather skirt; it was splayed out around him, covering my legs slightly since he was actually _sitting_ on my cock. His chest was rising and falling heavily, his head thrown back and his face sweaty. Strands of black hair were stuck to his flushed cheeks and his eyes were squeezed tightly shut as he adjusted to having me inside him.

"Am I hurting you?" I found myself having to ask. He didn't _look_ like he was in pain, but I'd hate myself if he was hurting and just bearing it for my sake. He shook his head viciously, though, and started moving. He rocked his hips back and forth, not lifting himself up at first. That in itself felt amazing - so, _so_ amazing - so when he eventually did use his knees to push himself up and then sat back down it felt like all the blood in my body had relocated to one particular place and I was unable to make any coherent sentences.

I knew I was probably making a total fool out of myself: gasping and groaning and whining whenever Gee so much as twitched his hips, but I couldn't help it. Gee just felt too good, and before I knew it I felt the familiar burning sensation in my stomach.

"I'm close." I called out, just to let him know, before trailing off into an indecipherable moan. Gee moaned too, shuddering before looking down at me in surprise.

"Really?" He asked as he pulled himself up again, falling back down onto me with all his weight and practically _screaming_ when I must have struck his prostate. After that, there wasn't much I could do except lie there, letting Gee ride me at an alarming pace until I came with a high pitched whine, my toes curling and my fists tightening in the sheets. He rode out the aftershocks, smiling fondly down at me as I came down from my high. Then he pulled off carefully; I could hear the sound of him getting himself off, but I was too exhausted to do anything for him. My brain felt foggy. But I had no idea why _I_ was tired— it was Gee that did all the work. In a daze, I pulled of the condom and threw it onto the floor to clean up later.

I could tell when he came; he made a little choked off cry that was incredibly adorable and hot at the same time, and then I felt him pressed up against me. I knew we should get up and have a shower; we were both hot and sticky and disgusting, but the way Gee was snuggling up against me, his arm flung across my chest, his fingers drawing slow, lazy patterns onto my skin, his cheek resting on my shoulder… it just made me want to stay there, with him, forever.

I smiled and ran a hand through his hair tenderly, feeling completely sated. What we had just done didn't feel wrong or immoral in any way— it felt more right than anything I had ever done in my life. In that moment, it didn't matter about my mother, or Jamia, or the church, or my band or the other people Gee had slept with.

All that mattered was that we were together, and I wanted to keep it that way for a long time.

***

_Gerard's POV:_

I didn't know what time it was when I woke up, but it was still dark outside so I assumed it was still the early hours of the morning. My throat was dry and it felt like someone was pounding my skull with a hammer— I hadn't had anything to drink all night but beer and a tiny gas station juice box. I needed a tall, cool glass of water desperately; I made to turn over in the bed and climb out, head towards the kitchen, but something was stopping me.

When I looked down, I saw Frank's arms wrapped tight around my waist and his leg slung over my thighs clingily, not letting me go. He was obviously still asleep - his eyebrows were furrowed slightly, causing little wrinkles to appear on his forehead just above his nose, and his lips were turning down at the sides as if he was pouting in his dream. It was quite cute. - so I figured I would just slide out of his grip and get back in afterwards. However, it wasn't that easy.

As soon as I started moving, Frank groaned and whimpered, turning over with me so that I was still trapped underneath his body. I sighed through my nose, reluctant to wake him up when he looked so peaceful, and carefully reached out a hand. I wrapped my hand around his wrist and lifted his arm up, ever so slowly, before letting it fall onto the bed. I smiled victoriously as I wriggled my legs enough to be free from Frank, but just when I thought I was able to get up, he sighed softly and whined, turning over and immediately draping an arm around my stomach, effectively trapping me.

I rolled my eyes, settling back down on the bed. Clearly I wasn't going to be able to get up any time soon, so I placed my head on the pillow and tried to get comfortable enough to fall back asleep. My head was still throbbing painfully, but I didn't have anywhere to be tomorrow so hopefully I would sleep it off and wake up next morning feeling fresh.

I knew I could easily have woken Frank up, gotten him to move and let me go, but he would have to leave next morningwhen I chucked him out anyway… and he just looked so cute. 

Sighing in resignation, I twisted until I was facing Frank and fell asleep again with my head pressed into his chest.

***

_Frank's POV:_

At some point in the night we must have fallen asleep like that, sweaty and tangled together with the sheets wrapped around our legs and my phone buzzing non stop in the pocket of my jeans. I realised it would probably be Jamia; when I didn't come home last night she would have been worried. It was a shitty thing to do, not calling her, but I couldn't change it now.

I also realised that this meant I would have to break up with her. If Gee and I were going to be together now, I couldn't lead Jamia on or stay with her after what we had just done. It would be hard; I didn't want to shut her out of my life. She had been such a big part of me for five years, and before she was my girlfriend, she was my _best_ friend. I didn't want to lose her, but I couldn't stay with her.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of my mind, I propped myself up on one elbow and focused on Gee in front of me, who was snoring softly. His face was pressed into the pillow, his hair fanning around him like a halo. Leaning down, I planted a gentle kiss on cheek, then his forehead and then his lips. I could see his pointy nose twitching: his subconscious' way of reacting to my affection. Eventually, his eyelids fluttered and he stared at me with bleary eyes. 

"Hey," I breathed, memories of last night flooding my brain and making me blush. "Sorry— I didn't mean to wake you."

"Liar," he murmured, offering me a small smile to let me know he was only joking. "What time is it?"

I twisted my neck around to face Gee's desk, looking for an alarm clock or a watch or a phone, but there wasn't anything and my mobile was in my jeans pocket near the door, so I shrugged. 

"Is there any hurry?" I asked Gee, snuggling back into the warmth of the blankets and pushing my nose into his hair. He moaned sleepily and pulled away from me - my heart sunk but I tried to keep the devastated expression off my face - walking over to the wardrobe with a slight limp in his step. Opening his draw, he grabs a pair of sweatpants and tugs them over his legs.

"You'll, um… you'll probably want to take a shower, right?" He checked nervously, and it was such a strange sight compared to what he had been like every other time I had encountered him that I couldn't help but laugh. His head jerked in my direction and he frowned, shaking his head slightly before smiling back uncertainly and then leaving the room. I could hear his feet padding along the hallway and then the sound of liquid dripping let me know he was making a coffee.

I ventured out of his bedroom and found my way to the bathroom, closing the door behind me but not bothering to lock it. If he wanted to join me… well, I wouldn't have a problem with that. The shower felt like heaven— I was covered in sweat and grime from last night; both from club and what Gee and I got up to afterwards. It was nice to wash all of that away, and standing under the continuous downpour of hot water gave me time to put everything in perspective. 

It was clear to me now that I was not as straight as I thought I was; I was still attracted to Jamia. She was beautiful and I was still in love with her to some extent, but I knew I couldn't be with her after this. Not when I knew she wouldn't be accepting of the whole me.

When I had finished in the shower, I stepped out onto the black and white bathroom tiles, grabbing a towel from off the back of the door and wrapping it around my waist. Examining my appearance in the foggy mirror, I cringed. My hair was dripping wet, hanging around my chin and sticking to the back of my neck, and my face looked pale and thin. I needed coffee— I needed to wake up properly so I could plan my day with Gee.

After drying off, I left the bathroom. Seeing something that looked conveniently like a washing basket, I dumped the wet towel in the basket and hurried back to the bedroom; my clothes, however, were just as gross as I was before the shower, so I thought I would borrow some of Gee's clothes. I found some sweatpants and a baggy Guns and Roses t-shirt, throwing them on before hurrying to the kitchen to seek out Gee. The short twenty minute shower away from him had been far too long for my liking.

Gee had his back to the door when I first walked into the kitchen; I saw the tilt of his arm and realised he was pouring coffee into a mug. Grinning, I slunk over to where Gee was standing and, all of a sudden, wrapped my arm so around his waist. I pressed my nose into his back and rutted my forehead against his shoulder blades needily.

Not expecting the sudden company, he jerked forward when I touched him and unfortunately spilt the coffee down his front, yelping in pain. He carefully placed the mug down on the counter before spinning round to face me; the look of frustration on his face took me by surprise.

"What the fuck?!" He cried, swiping at his shirt which was quickly staining brown. "That _hurt_!" 

I looked up at him with big, hurt eyes. Gee looked unnecessarily angry… I bit my lip and cast my eyes to the floor.

"Sorry," I offered, stepping closer to wrap my arms around his middle; I decorated his chest with small kisses until I heard him sigh and he reciprocated the embrace. "Sorry." I said again and he chuckled before stepping away.

"You want some coffee?" He asked, holding out his cup to me, which I took gratefully, before returning to the cupboard to get himself another mug.

"So what are we going to do today?" I questioned happily, taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room and taking a sip of the coffee. "I mean, I have to be at a club at nine, but we can still spend the day together up till then."

"Huh?" Gee frowned and turned to me with a confused expression. "What're you talking about?" 

"Our day together!" I enthused, beaming at the thought of spending all day in Gee's company. "What do you want to do? We'll do whatever you want!"

Gee coughed awkwardly and, running a tired hand down his face, took a large sip of his coffee. I frowned, not understanding what was wrong. I realised I didn't know what he did for a job, and that he could very possibly have to work all of today or tonight, rendering him unable to spend much time with me at all. _That_ must be why his face fell at the mention of spending the day together.

"I— I'm just busy today is all," he replied, not looking me in the eyes. My heart fluttered in my chest at the gesture; he didn't want to see me upset. He was so _sweet_! "Sorry."

"It's okay," I told him, smiling and leaning over the table to kiss him on the mouth the moment he sat down. "You have to work, I get it. We'll do it another's time. It's no biggie." I was about to lean over the table to kiss him again when the sound of my phone ringing from the bedroom startled me.

"Sorry," I mumbled, placing the mug down on the table and getting up. "I probably have to get that."

He nodded his understanding, watching me with a careful expression until I left the room to find out who was calling me. I was going to be incredibly pissed at whoever it was, for interrupting my limited time with Gee. After finding my phone in the back pocket of my jeans, I unlocked it and watched as the screen lit up with my mother's number.

"Hello, Mom." I sighed as I answered it.

"Frank! Where have you _been_?!— I've been calling you non-stop; Jamia is worried sick! She said you left her in a _parking lot_ to go after some homosexual  _hooker_!"

A spark of anger ignited inside me as I heard my mother refer to my new lover as a "hooker". I couldn't say anything though, didn't want to blow my own cover so soon after discovering my own identity, so I bit my tongue to stop any incriminating words from escaping.

"He wasn't a _hooker_ , he was just a nice guy. And anyway, I'm fine so you can tell her to stop worrying." I bit back.

"You can tell her yourself!" My mother replied just as icily. "When you go back to your apartment _right now,_ where she is waiting for you!"

"I'm busy right now—" I began, attempting to stop the fury rising in my mother before it even started, but it was too late and when my mother has her mind set on something, there was no way to dissuade her.

" _Frank Anthony Iero_ , you will go back to your house immediately to talk to your girlfriend about why you abandoned her last night!"

"Okay, okay!" I cringed, hoping Gee wouldn't be anywhere near this room right now so he wouldn't be able to hear what a control freak my mother was. There would be enough problems with our relationship already; having a dissaproving, controlling mother-in-law would just make matters worse.

I picked up my loose clothing from the floor, stripping Gee's clothes off and pulling on my own even though it was disgusting and unhygienic. Then for the hard part: saying goodbye to Gee.

He was standing at the oven when I entered the kitchen again, frying a pancake with an unopened bottle of maple syrup by the side ready for use. He looked so cute, standing there with his long hair and baggy clothes. I just wanted to hug him and never let go. But, obviously, I couldn't.

"I, um, have to go." I told him regretfully. Then, looking around for a pen and piece of paper to write with, I continued. "But— here, let me give you my number and you can call me! And you can find me at the club tonight! I'll see you there!" Without giving him a chance to reply I threw my arms around him, squeezing him tightly and then letting him go. I rushed to the door, blowing the bewildered man a kiss, before opening the door and rushing outside.

I, unfortunately, had a girlfriend to break up with.

***

"I'm so sorry." I said again, turning away so I wouldn't have to see the tears streaming down Jamia's face. I hated disappointing people; making people cry was a terrible thing to do and it made me feel like shit, but I couldn't put this off. It would just inevitablly hurt worse if I did that.

"I just don't know what I _did_ , Frank!" She replied tearfully. "If you told me, maybe we could sort this out!"

My heart broke at the amount of sincerity and remorse in her voice, but I couldn't take I think back now. I couldn't take sleeping with Gee back, or telling her we needed to break up. It was too late.

"It was nothing you _did_ , Jamia, _honestly_. I just— it's me, okay? I'm changing, and we're not compatible anymore. I'm so sorry, I don't want to hurt you but I can't pretend to… to be _okay_ with this when I'm not."

That just made her cry harder, and I accepted the hug she forced upon me. She needed comfort and I couldn't deny her that; not when we'd been through so much together. She pushed her head into my chest, her tears staining my shirt, and I placed what I hoped was a _friendly_ hand on her back.

"We can still be friends though, right?" I whispered. She didn't answer: instead, she dug her fingernails into my back and her body shook from the force of her sobbing.

***

It had been three days, three _whole_ days, since I had seen Gee and I was slowly going _insane_. He hadn't called me at all, not even a text, and it made me worry that I might have gotten the number wrong or he might have lost the piece of paper it was written on.

He didn't come to meet me at the club either, and I couldn't remember how to get to his apartment. I was well and truly fucked, so I did the only thing I could think of: I returned to the club in the hopes that either he would be there or someone would be able to give me his address. 

"Frank!" The bartender exclaimed as soon as I walked in. I had no idea why he seemed so happy to see me - I'd only had one or two proper conversations with the guy - but if he was only my good side he'd be more likely to comply and give me information on Gee, so I didn't question it.

"Hey dude, what's up?" He grinned at me, and I smiled back albeit a little uncertainly. 

"Hey," I answered. "Could I have a beer?"

He shook his head at me, muttering about how I was "unexciting" in my choice of drinks, but I barely heard him, because something in the glass behind the bar caught my eye.

A mop of bright red hair.

I turned around, my eyes lighting up as I realised I was going to see Gee again! However, my happiness was short lived as I saw the position. I could feel my heart break into hundreds of little pieces as I saw the man I was sure I loved bend down and kiss somebody else on the lips, not even noticing me standing, staring at him with an open mouth and testy eyes.

I blinked, and I couldn't have stopped what happened next even if I wanted to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this, please comment or leave kudos! <3  
> (And if you don't like it, please comment and leave kudos anyway.)


	2. Chapter 2

He didn't feel humiliated and his cheek didn't hurt that much. It's not like he got beaten or something; he's definitely had worse. After all, it was just a punch, but what hurts is his heart. The broken look that Frank had given him after delivering punch after punch to the nameless, faceless man Gee had been making out with was enough to make him regret everything he's ever done in his life.

He keeps walking, holding his hand to his cheek. It is a dark night; he doesn't know what time it is but he's glad of his decision to wear pants today. It's freezing out, and this time there is no Frank to come pick him up and take him home.

It's pretty late when he arrives the apartment, but instead of just crashing into his bed and sleeping, he takes a suitcase and starts to fill it with all his belongings. He can't do this anymore: he hurt a man that didn't deserve to be hurt, probably many more just like Frank, and he feels fucking awful about it. So he does the only thing he can do to stop this from ever happening again.

Leave.

***

Classes were starting in two weeks, but the dorms were already available. Since Gerard left he hadn't exactly got a set address so it wasn't really a surprise that he found himself sitting on his bed with a plastic bag on his head, waiting for the dye to turn his hair black again. It had been a spur of the moment decision; the red hair was attracting too much attention, and he didn't want any attention right now. He didn't think he'd want attention ever again.

To kill time, he took one of his sketch pads and a pencil and, in the hope of clearing his head, he started drawing. He needed to build up his portfolio anyway— did it really matter whether he started the work in class or not?

It didn't work, however, when he realised he had unconsciously sketched Frank's face all over the paper. Frank was beautiful, Gerard realised: all confusion and love he had that night at his apartment, and next to it a set of his broken eyes eerily similar to the ones he saw the next day backstage.

He wanted to throw it away so he wouldn't be constantly reminded of his mistakes, but he ended pinning the paper to a board next to his bed, as an unpleasant reminder of the man who fall in love with him and ended up broken. He deserved to remember.

Gerard couldn't stop thinking of all the possibilities, the 'what ifs'. What if Frank and him were meant to be together? What would have happened if he let Frank stay the day after their night together? Everything could have been so different, but Gerard was no more than a slut and the only thing he could do to seek redemption was abandon his previous life and hope with all his heart that Frank could be happy again with someone worthy.

***

The first night he cried out of rage. His whole life went to hell the moment he saw Gee backstage. He lost his girlfriend and consequently his family. He hadn't spoken to his friends or his bandmates because he couldn't stop thinking about what they would say if they knew he was gay. Or bisexual. Or whatever-the-fuck he was.

He kept drinking the plain vodka straight from the bottle; he could feel his throat burning from the alcohol and the sadness - all the yelling he had done back at the club - because he shouldn't be in this situation. His life would have been way more simple if Gee had never showed up. Gee had unwittingly fucked up everything for him, and had then cheated on him. Frank was never falls in love again.

His phone rang for the third time that night, probably his mother or distant aunt he'd never met but that knew all about his recent break up (his mother had told everyone, much to both parties annoyance). They were probably waiting to give him the lecture of his life: Jamia was good for him, she could have been the mother of his child, etcetera etcetera, but it was too late now and they would never have what they had back. She probably hated him and as much as his brain was screaming that he had to apologise to her, his heart was with Gee. Where was he now? In his apartment? Or was he spending the night with someone else?

The next day was the hangover kicking out and he felt like shit. His head was thumping in a throbbingly painful way, he felt dizzy and could barely keep his eyes open, he was hungry and wanted to puke at the same time and the worse part was that snippets of last night started coming back to him. He tried to get into the kitchen but ended up falling onto the couch and passing out until the next day.

He had called Gee a whore. He had yelled at him in front of everybody and told him he should be ashamed of himself. On top of that, he had almost broken the other guy's fucking nose, but he couldn't find it in himself to feel as bad about that as he did about what he said to Gee.

After drinking enough coffee to shock his system back into order, he grabbed his jacket and keys and left. He had to apologise, had to make Gee forgive him, and he wound up at the man's apartment about half an hour later.

He spent almost ten minutes knocking at the door in vain. His brain unhelpfully supplied him with all the possible scenarios: he got mugged on the way home and was lying in a ditch somewhere bleeding out, he went home with someone else and was still there now, he somehow knew it was Frank and was ignoring him… the possibilities were endless and each one as terrible as the last.

It was only nine in the morning and Frank told himself that Gee had just spent the night somewhere else, with someone else. His heart did a painful twist, he tried to get rid of the thought, but it was better than the alternatives. Eventually he sat down on the floor outside the apartment. He was here to apologise for hitting him - he still couldn't believe he hit him - he was betrayed, heartbroken and feeling like shit, but what he did was unacceptable.

One of Gee's neighbours must have complained about the sobbing man sitting on the corridor floor, because not long after a pair of shiny leather shoes appeared in front of his face and he looked up to see the apartment manager standing above him.

“What are you doing here, son?” The old man asked kindly. Frank got up from the ground, trying to rub his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt and attempted to talk without sobbing.

“I'm waiting for Gee… the guy who lives here. I need to talk to him” he hoped he sounded self confident— he couldn't afford anybody trying to send him away. He wasn't leaving until he spoke to Gee.

The man glanced over at the door like he was trying to remember who lived in there and Frank held his breath.

"Is that the red head kid?” Frank nodded affirmatively and the man sighed, taking a huge keychain with what appeared to be all the keys of the building and started looking through them. Finally he found one that fit the door and proceeded to open it.

“Well, I'm afraid that you're too late, because I got a text last night that he was leaving."

Frank's heart stopped and he stumbled into the apartment without permission. It hadn't been very personalised to start with, it was hard to tell the difference. Every piece of furniture was in the exact same position, but some little things were missing: the posters, some books that were laying around, the empty water glasses. They were all gone.

He hurried to Gee’s bedroom, remembering the way perfectly, to find the same. The bed - in which he had had the best night of his life - was there, but none of Gee's belongings were. The comic book shelf was empty, the closet was only filled with empty hangers. Gee wasn't there and there was no trace of him ever having lived here. Frank couldn't help it when he fell to the ground and cried miserably.

The old man entered the room and immediately felt uncomfortable. He already knew the red haired boy had some sort of strange life, he wasn't a stranger to the boy's choice of clothing every time he waved at him when they met each other in the reception, but he never though it would have ended up with a – supposedly – grown man crying on the floor of the apartment he always rented over the summer for three years straight.

"I don't know what's going on here but I'm going to have to ask you to leave." He said sternly. "Housekeeping is going to need to clean this place and I have others people interested in renting."

Frank was still sobbing, but he managed to get up and wipe his tears away with the sleeve of his shirt.

"Can… can you tell me his name? I mean Gee, his real name?"

The man looked at him in disbelief. Did he really not know the name of the kid he was hung up on?

"So, all tha crying is for someone whose name you don't even know?! You've got to be kidding me."

"Please," Frank begged pitifully. "I need to find him, and apologise to him, please! It's really important!"

The man shifted uncomfortably and looked at Frank sympathetically. "Well I’m sorry but I can't help you. We can't give out that sort of information, its our policy to give privacy to the tenant. Especially this kid because he requested it; I can't help you and you really need to leave now. Housekeeping will be here any second."

Frank was considering every possible option, from continuing to beg on his knees to breaking into the reception and stealing the file (it's there was one) with Gee's details in it. He even considered bribing the old man, but all he had on him was three dollar bills and his car keys. In the end he opted for the most logical option: to go to every bar, pub or concert venue to look for him. Gee was practically a celebrity amongst the pub crawlers, someone must know his real name even if he didn't see the man himself there. He couldn't be a nameless character when he affected the lives of so many people… could he?

***

Brendon sighed, rubbing his back as he stood up. One more suitcase to carry up the stairs to his college dorm before he could relax, smoke a little pot and watch some TV. He had stopped to get a coffee after carrying the other two bags up, but he couldn't only put off the inevitable for so long. He flexed his hand, certain he was going to have blisters after this, and started on the hike up the stairs to his room.

He could tell something was wrong as soon as he got there though: the door was open, and he was sure he had shut it after dropping off his last bag. Someone was in his room.

Peering around the door, he balled his hands into fists in preparation for a fight— last semester, a freshman had broken into his dorm and tried to steal his laptop whilst he was out. The only reason the little shit didn't get away with it was because he got back earlier than expected… with company. The kid had been so traumatised he would probably never try to steal anything again.

He was relieved and somewhat surprised to see that his roommate was actually there, sporting black hair once again, and curled up asleep on the bed Brendon had decided was going to be his. Gerard never showed up before classes were supposed to start, and classes didn't start for another week yet.

It wasn't a pleasant sleep, Brendon could tell. Gerard's face was twisted, his nose twitching occasionally, and he had black eyeliner and tear tracks dried on his face. Brendon assumed he had cried until he passed out.

He wanted to be quiet and let him sleep for a little bit more, this version of Gerard wasn't the guy he knew or knew how to deal with. He knew his friend had spent years battling again anxiety and depression and he tried to help whenever he could, but he could already tell that this was something else entirely.

Attempting to leave silently and place the suitcase in his hands over by his other belongings, he tripped over a misplaced shoe on the ground and, in true Brendon Urie fashion, ended up dropping everything and crashing to the ground with an almighty thud. Gerard gasped and sat upright immediately, his head spinning. Between the fright of being woken so suddenly and crying himself to sleep, he had a thumping headache.

"I'm so sorry, Gee, I didn't want to wake you." Brendon apologised, picking himself up from off the floor and dusting his clothes off. "Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

Gerard tried to answer, honestly this time, but the lump in his throat wasn't letting up. He couldn't say a single word; instead his heart gave an awful pang and he whimpered softly. In a matter of seconds Brendon was by his side, hugging him and whispering softly that "everything was going to be alright."

Whilst he knew his friend had only good intentions, Gerard didn't want to be held by Brendon. He knew exactly what and who he wanted and he also knew that person was completely unavailable to him now. Itwas Frank, the man he hurt, the man who fell in love with him and who he ended up breaking, that he wanted to hold him. He wanted Frank so badly that it hurt, but he couldn't have him, so instead he cried in his best friend's arms.

After what seemed like forever, Gee was sitting on the bed with a cup of tea. The painkillers Brendon gave him were working to get rid of the headache but he felt dizzy and a little nauseous and he wondered if they were aactually painkillers or something a little stronger. The lack of sleep and food from the last couple of days were making him feel more worse.

"I completely respect your decision if you don't want to talk to me about whatever happened," Brendon started cautiously. "But if there's anything I can do to help you, you know you can always count on me."

Gerard was looking at the ground, but when he heard this he looked up and smiled with an I-don't-believe-you grin.

"You're a good friend Brendon, but you're not gonna like me when you know what I really am."

"I know exactly who you are Gerard Way!" Brendon replied fiercely. "I know you, I know your brother, your parents: I've been round your house, remember? You are a comic book nerd who know his shit about music and art, you are a good brother and one hell of a good friend, and I am honoured to know you."

"And a fucking slut." Gee hissed, looking directly at Brendon now to see his reaction.

"What?!" Brendon cried, outraged. "What are you talking about? Did someone say something to you? Gerard, you are not a slut!"

"You don't know me Brendon," Gerard dry sobbed. He'd used up all of his tears already. "I've lost the count of how many men that I let fuck me in the last three years! I'm a slut and the worst kind, I don't even charge."

He laughed humourlessly; all the pain and sadness was coming back now.

"I've been with so many men and I don't even remember most of them. Maybe I was too drunk or too stoned but the pain between my legs was enough to remind me what I am. A fucking whore."  
Brendon tried to say something to his friend that might help— he must be joking, this was not the Gee he knew. In his mind he was replaying every scene in which Gerard would stumble in late at night and crash onto his bed. He didn't notice his friend's behaviour. He noticed how Gerard would come home smelling like alcohol and would wear scarves the next morning even though it was summer… but he never put two and two together. It it couldn't be possible, not now, not ever. Right?

***

There were a series of decisions, Frank thought, that led up to this moment in his life, but at the moment he couldn't for the life of him remember any of them. Chucking back his head, Frank downed his shot and slammed the empty glass back on the bar. He was way past drunk, more like on his way to having alcohol poisoning, but as long as his mind was numb and his memory was foggy he was okay.

"You want another one, champ?" Lindsey, the bar tender, asked. She smiled sympathetically as he nodded and poured him another.

This was the fourth time this week he had returned to this bar, and the other three nights he had been frequenting other bars, getting drunk and crying himself to sleep. He had made friends with Lindsey over the past two months or so, and she was the one Frank always came back to. He got drunk, spilled his sob story abiut his unrequited love to her, she called him a taxi to get him home, he went back the next night and paid her back and the cycle would continue.

"I just don't get it!" Frank choked, shaking his head and looking at her through wide eyes. "I get it if he doesn't want to see me but to move out because of me?! Why?"

"Maybe it wasn't because of you?" Lindsey suggested gently. "Maybe he just fancied a change of scenery?"

"He took everything, though! He even requested that his landlord give out none of his information! I never even knew his real name: just Gee."

Lindsey looked up suddenly, narrowing her eyes.

"Gee?" She repeated slowly. Frank was too drunk to notice the change in her tone and just nodded miserably. "As in… bright red hair, wears skirts? That Gee?"

Frank nodded again, not realising that he hadn't told her any of that before. If he had been a little less wasted, maybe he would have sensed the change in her mood and the slow smile that spread across her face. She hunched over the counter and began writing something on a scrap of paper.

"Come on, Honey," she grinned. "I'll call you a taxi and you can sleep it off. I'm sure you'll feel better in the morning."

"When the hangover fades." Frank muttered bitterly.

The next morning when he woke up, his face was plastered to a piece of paper and he has red lines imdented no his skin from the creases in his duvet. Peeling the paper away from his face, he squinted for a few moments before the writing came into focus in front of him. There were only a few words written in Lindsey's messy scrawl.

Local college, dorm room 106, Gerard Way, don't fuck it up this time!x

***

Gerard was browsing the shelves at the library, searching for a book to help him with his Art History essay, when he heard his name being called. He looked up, scanning the aisle for the perpetrator, when his eyes settled on a familiar face. Frank.  
"Gee," Frank whispered as he hurried closer. Gerard involuntarily took a step back; the last time they saw each other, Frank had punched him.

"How did you know where to find me?" Gerard whispered, his eyes darting back and forth the see if they were being watched. He had deliberately laid low over the past couple of months, not going out to parties or clubs, so that he could try and forget about his old life. Everything about it.

"Lindsey, she told me." Frank said in a rush, and before Gerard could stop him the shorter man had thrown his arms around Gerard's neck and was hugging him like his life depended on it. Gerard could feel Frabk's chest heaving against his own, knew he was crying, and didn't have the heart to push him away. Not again.

"Shh," Gerard said comfortingly, stroking his hand up and down the other man's back. "We'll figure everything out. I promise."

***

Three weeks later:

Gerard woke before Frank and took a minute to admire his sleeping boyfriend. He had stayed over last night - thankfully Brendon was staying with friends and wasn't there to be kept awake - and Gerard had wanted to treat him to breakfast, but he was running late and he had a lecture in ten minutes.

Once he had brushed his teeth, thrown on his clothes and tugged a comb through his hair, he wrote a note to Frank explaining why he had to leave and kissed him on the forehead before rushing out of the door.

All throughout the lecture Gerard was grinning, thinking about how his life had done a complete 180 degree turn in the last three weeks. When he had first agreed to be in a relationship with Frank, he had done so cautiously. He hadn't wanted to upset the man again and he worried that he would fuck it up somehow. Monogamy wasn't what he was best known for, after all.

However, after just a week of being with Frank, Gerard knew that the older man was all he needed. He was sweet when Gerard needed sweet, possessive when Gerard needed possessive and rough when Gerard needed rough. He was, quite literally, everything Gerard needed and he couldn't imagine living without him ever again.

There was still the problem of Frank coming out to his family and friends. Jamia had taken it the best out of everyone; she hated Gerard for taking her boyfriend away, naturally, but it was somewhat of an ego boost to know that Frank broke up with her because he was gay and not because of her. Frank's mother still refused to talk to him, but Jamia told him that she missed him like crazy so they still had hope that she would come around.

Other than that, their life was pretty okay right now, and Gerard had never been happier.

When the lecture ended, Gerard was the first out of the door. He couldn't wait to get back to Frank and away from his sixty year old professor who smelt like cheese. He was just about to run in the direction of his dorm when a voice from behind him stopped him.

"What, no goodbye kiss?"

Gerard turned to see Frank, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and a smile on his face. Gerard beamed and walked over to him, planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

"Not my fault you were asleep when it happened." He said cheekily. "What are you doing here? I was just about to go back to the dorm."

Frank held out his hand and grinned when Gerard took it firmly.

"I am taking you out to breakfast. We said we would so we will! There's a cute little diner a few minutes walk away that does the best waffles."

Yeah, Gerard thought as he walked away, hand in hand with his perfect boyfriend. Life is pretty okay right now.


End file.
